


Take My Trembling Hand

by orphan_account



Category: Bare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-22
Updated: 2006-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's never sure when it comes to Jason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Trembling Hand

He's not sure what he's supposed to do. He's never sure when it comes to Jason; he never has been. Jason's the one who's sure.

He tosses pebbles into the fountain, watching the ripples move out from where the water is disturbed. His face wavers in the semi-transparency, falling apart and re-forming in a matter of seconds that could be the difference between whether he believes himself or he believes Jason. He's been cracking at the edges for days, weeks, months—ever since that second he realized that his best friend was more than his best friend, that they both wanted to be wrong, that for better or worse, they were in this together, now.

The water smooths, but it hardly lasts.

He's not tossing pebbles in anymore, just himself.

*

He was tall. Peter wanted to be that tall, but he hated the way milk tasted and he couldn't drink more than a few sips, no matter how much his mom yelled at him. His dad was tall, too, but that's where the similarities ended. This boy was blonde, pale, and his pants were too long.

Peter couldn't think of anything to say.

"I'm Jason," the other boy said, sticking out his hand.

His mom put down her pamphlet and came to stand at the door where Peter was still dumbly holding on to the knob. "It's nice to meet you, Jason." She smiled but pinched Peter's shoulder hard enough that he cringed. "Isn't it, Peter?"

He swallowed, taking the hand and looking at a pair of green eyes that seemed like they were laughing at him.

"Hi. I'm Peter."

Jason smiled.

*

Being a freshman was not all it was cracked up to be. Peter would happily walk around the whole year with a bag on his face if he could. Even staying with his dad would be better than this.

He hated how every morning he woke up with a hard-on. He hated the way he tripped over his feet and his words, and he hated the way he felt like everyone was looking at him. Especially Jason. When the year started, he'd been excited that they'd be roommates again, but he was starting to dread coming back here.

Sometimes just looking at Jason's eyes was enough to do it. He tried so hard not to give in, not to feed the sinful fires, but they burned his hands and lungs and skin and wouldn't stop until he did.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He turned on the shower and stepped in, wishing that the water would be enough to wash it away, this time.

*

"Race you," Jason said, taking off across the dusty path before Peter could even agree. Peter ran after him, breathless with laughter and something else, tripping when he was watching Jason and not the outcropping rocks closely enough.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked, face filling up Peter's vision. His eyes weren't laughing now. Peter had never seen green look so deep.

"I…" Peter felt like he was in sixth grade again. His arm trembled under Jason's hand.

Jason looked at him for a long time before taking his hand and hauling him to his feet. "Water's not going to wait all day," he said, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Didn't quite erase the tremble shuddering in their fingers.

*

"This isn't… moral," Peter whispered, eyelids fluttering when Jason hit the spot he was shuddering for. His body was in unanimous agreement that moral or immoral, this felt goddamned good.

"Who says?" Jason asked, grinding his hips harder and slipping his hands up under Peter's shirt.

"I…_shit_." Any reply he'd been hoping to make was swallowed up in Jason's hungry kisses, his insistent hands, and he hated that it felt like waking up everywhere that Jason touched him, like his body had known all along this was what he wanted.

"You're so…" Jason rested his forehead on Peter's. "God, Peter." He left a trail of questions on Peter's jaw, fingers exploring lower, and they breathed in the same space, sharing more than just air.

"I don't know if I can—"

Jason raised two fingers to his lips. "You don't have to do anything, Peter. Just be here."

Peter smiled.

That, he could do.

*

He lost his sight, not because he closed his eyes, but because the feeling of Jason rode up his spine like a lance of lightning and lit up everything so bright inside him that he couldn't see anymore. He felt himself surging, down, up, back—he didn't understand direction right now, didn't understand where he was except in relation to Jason, that was all that mattered. He blinked the stinging blessings out of his eyes because he needed to see, needed to see that green smiling at him, remember that he was here, had to be here with Jason.

"God, Peter, you feel so good," Jason breathed into his neck and Peter dug his nails in hot trails down Jason's spine, trying to tell him the same thing because he had no air to say it. Then his eyes cleared and Jason pulled back, and even as they moved faster, he was locked into Jason's intense gaze, an image of such crystal clarity he knew it would be burned behind his lids for the rest of his life, just like Jason kept promising him: forever.

"I—" He tried to speak through the flood of closeness, wanted to put words to all this need that was an inferno exploded into life every time they touched, but then the shudders started and the words left, thought left, and he was clutching Jason and watching him even as they kissed, falling apart in each other's mouths.

Forever wasn't long enough to see all the beauty before him.

*

He opens the door, aware that of all the things he wants to do, running away is not among them.

Jason is lying in what he thinks of as their bed, book flat-faced on his chest, sleeping.

He sits on the bed lightly, careful not to disturb Jason's rest. "What are we doing?" He whispers, hand hovering over Jason's face.

Jason opens his eyes and looks at Peter for stretching minutes before he turns his head, kissing Peter's palm. "We're being," he whispers back.

"Being kinda fucked up, you mean." Peter sallies weakly, but he doesn't draw his hand back.

"Yeah."

Jason smiles. Peter smiles back.

That, they can do.


End file.
